On the flight over, he had worked out how to take it out of the budget of the fort in the next cycle. Hearing of the church, the commandant gulped visibly at this remark. He knew exactly where the money was really going to come from. This would only put more pressure on him to produce to make up for the damage and the losses. With half the mine shut down, this could cost him everything.
Zeer bowed again in front of the VR. His voice was picked up by the VR’s mike and beamed out to the viddies, "I thank you, your Majesty, on behalf of this humble flock. They are lucky to have some one of your stature protecting them."
“Givin' compliments to a Frogger.”
“Dad... you know yerself that it's a political game... the people will be the winners...”
(cheers)
“Well, I am proud of Thee, ma sweet.”
“Thankee, darlin’.”
The ceremony was over. The commandant had been forced to stand there in the dying day’s heat with a smile plastered on his face without being allowed to say anything. Ignoring him, the Vicate and the Viceroy went back to the barge and headed back to their revels secure in the knowledge that they had both scored many political points in their ambitious quest for the top of each of their societies.
The commandant, once again, watched them leave, seething with an inner rage. Again, he had been completely forgotten by the press. He just stood there sweating in his new uniform and medals. He never got to utter one word of the speech that he had stayed up all night writing and practicing. He stalked off, wondering when or if he was ever going to get off this hell-hole.
Preacher Man Page 17
